


Is It A Galra Thing?

by Doteruna



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Dads of Marmora (Voltron), Decapitation, Hurt Keith (Voltron), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keitor will happen eventually, Lotor deserves a chance, M/M, Molestation, Protective Dads of Marmora, Protectiveness, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-29 00:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13915491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doteruna/pseuds/Doteruna
Summary: Keith is being abused by a member of the Blades and can't tell anyone about it. His suicidal flight at the ship's forcefield is telling and Lotor saves his life; turns out, Lotor and Keith have met before.





	1. Chapter One

The mission was going very, very poorly.

Nagathi, the Blade that Keith had been partnered with for three weeks now, had been discovered almost immediately. She was strong and smart, but unable to defeat the sentries pouring into the room from every direction. She’d managed to push Keith into a vent system to keep him from being seen, and she went down fighting as the former Paladin muffled his sobs and crawled as fast as he could. 

He spent nearly two hours in the vents before finding the small security room they were supposed to get to in the first place. It took only a few minutes to download the information he needed from the monitor and cover his digital tracks, and he was ready to make his way to the extraction point. The vents couldn’t take him there, so he was forced to sneak through the darkened hallways, listening intently. Sentries stomped around and you could feel your skin crawl whenever a Druid was near, so getting around shouldn’t be so hard--

Except that Keith didn’t even hear the footsteps of the Galra in front of him as he rounded a corner. The Galra froze, looking up from the tablet in his hands, and Keith was already reaching for his knife when the taller figure shook his head, long white hair waving gently. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, his voice a velvety purr, and he simply brushed past Keith and continued down the hallway. Keith watched him go, dumbfounded, until the slim Galra was out of sight.

He made it to the extraction point but never told a soul about the Galra, uncertain if the man was even real or a hallucination from his grief-addled mind.

 

It wasn’t until another mission, almost six months later, that Keith ran into the same man. He’d been on a solo mission to meet an informant on a distant planet, but the market they were in was attacked by the Galra Empire and Keith nearly got blown up. Instead, he had a piece of shrapnel the size of his palm sticking out of his waist and a broken leg that made running away from sentries a real pain in the ass. 

Keith had taken shelter in the forest nearby, watching as ship after ship descended from the atmosphere, the Empire sending waves of forces to try and force the planet to tell them where Voltron was. Of course, the Paladins weren’t anywhere near there; Keith worked solely with the Blade of Marmora now, and he hadn’t even talked to Shiro in weeks. Antok was his closest friend at the moment, and Keith glared at the sky as he wished the large Galra was there at his side. Even if he didn’t talk much, the situation would be a lot less shitty if he had a friend.

Keith was slowly moving his way through the forest to where he’d left his ship, but the blood leaking from his side was making everything a bit fuzzy. His mask had been cracked in the explosion, damaging it’s communications system and making calling for backup impossible. His only chance was to get to his ship, but it was at least a hundred meters away and he could already hear the sentries behind him, searching the forest for him. Keith gripped his knife tighter and limped forwards, only to fall on his face as his broken leg refused to hold his weight. 

Maybe the universe was taking pity on him, because a second later he heard a group of sentries only a few meters away, and an officer talking to them. Falling behind a log had kept him from being seen.

“Search from here to the North,” the officer commanded, and the stomping footsteps became distant. However, a nearly silent gait got closer, and Keith rolled onto his back, knife in hand, ready to fight.

“You’re rather small for a Galra,” came a familiar voice and a lilac face with long white hair popped over the log. “Oh, you’re the same agent from the ship a while ago.” A tall, lean body followed the head over the log, and the blood loss really must be getting to Keith because the officer didn’t seem to be pulling out a gun or the sword on his hip or anything. “I sent the search party north. I saw you heading south so I figured you have a method of getting off the planet in that direction.” With that, the officer was hoisting Keith over his shoulder and heading south. The rapid change in position made Keith lose consciousness for a minute, but when he came to, he was being dropped at the foot of his ship.

“Hopefully I never see you again, little agent,” the officer said. “You must work on your stealth. If you’re on my ship again, I don’t want to hear about it.” Before Keith could answer, the man was gone, and Keith was barely able to drag himself into the ship and set the coordinates for the Marmora cruiser before passing out.

He came to as the ship docked in the Blade of Marmora hangar, the control panel screeching at him because he wasn’t able to manually land. He’d fallen unconscious on the ground, not in the chair, and he didn’t have the energy to pull himself up. The ship landed on autopilot, jarring him and the wound on his side came alive with fire. He couldn’t help the cry that came from his lips and suddenly the ship door was yanked open, Thace jumping in.

“Keith?!” he yelled, kneeling next to him and carefully checking his wounds. “Antok, let Giyander know I’m bringing Keith in!” There was a sizeable puddle of blood on the floor, even though the shrapnel was mostly plugging the wound. Thace snuck a hand under Keith’s knees and neck and lifted, and Keith’s world went black again.

Finally, he opened his eyes and didn’t feel like his hip was being eaten by acid and the pain in his leg had dulled to a low throb. Above him is the white ceiling of the Marmora medical bay and as he turns his head, he sees Giyander, the Galra medical officer who takes charge whenever Ulaz is undercover. He’s in a small recovery room, and Giyander is taking down notes from the various machines hooked up to Keith. He turns when he hears Keith shifting.

“Good to see you awake, little one,” he says brightly. “How do you feel?” He comes closer and pulls away the sheet, exposing Keith to the cool air. He’s nearly completely naked, just some bandages around his waist and a light cast around his leg where he’d broken it. Keith yelps and tries to cover himself, but Giyander just laughs. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, I assure you. Is there any pain?”

“A little,” Keith rasps, throat dry. There’s a container of water on the table next to the bed, just out of reach. Giyander pats him on the shoulder and pours a small cup, but he doesn’t hand it to Keith. 

“What do you say?” he demands, eyes suddenly hard. Keith frowns, but Giyander has always been a little weird. 

“Thank you?” he tries, and Giyander goes back to smiling and hands him the cup. Drinking deeply, he lets Giyander refill it before he’s sated and can think clearly. 

“Where’s Kolivan?” he asks, surprised the leader isn’t there already. “I need to explain what happened.”

“He’ll be here in a bit,” Giyander says. “I expected you to be unconscious for a little while longer. You said there was some pain, how bad is it?”

“My leg hurts just a bit and my side is numb,” Keith mutters, trying to grab the sheet and pull it back over himself. Even with Giyander’s professional tone, he’s uncomfortable.

“You’re lucky the break wasn’t any higher up,” Giyander chuckles, thick fingers wrapping high up on Keith’s bare thigh. Keith freezes, because that purple hand is way too close to his genitals to be dismissed.

“What the hell?” he grunts, shoving Giyander. But he’s weak from his ordeal, and Giyander is a large, full-blooded Galra, and he doesn’t move an inch. The grip on his thigh tightens painfully, the half-healed break throbbing. “Let go!”

“Why are you struggling?” Giyander smirks, using his other hand to pin Keith’s shoulder to the bed. “I’m a medical officer, I know what I’m doing. Calm down.” Keith pauses his struggle for just a second to suck in a breath, ready to yell, but Giyander takes it as him relaxing and lets go. “There, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it? You’ll hurt yourself if you move around too much, the stitches aren’t invincible.” He tugs the sheet up to Keith’s stomach, and the young man snatches it up to his armpits, eyes narrowed. He’s about to question why Giyander touched him when the doctor straightens stiffly and faces the door, which opens a second later. 

“Kolivan,” he greets, all smiles. “Keith just woke up. He’s healing great and will be completely fine in a few days.”

Kolivan, not one for many words, just nods, and Giyander takes that as a sign to leave without another word. As soon as he’s out the door, the leader of the Blades strides over to Keith and places a heavy hand on his head awkwardly.

“I am glad to see you are well, kit,” he mumbles. “You gave us quite the scare when you landed.” 

“Sorry,” Keith mutters, because Kolivan is like a gruff dad that he doesn’t want to disappoint. “Explosion damaged my comms.”

“And you weren’t able to retrieve the information from the spy, correct?”

“No,” Keith confirms, but he ducks his head and starts to pick at the blanket as he says it. He was injured and caused problems when he got back, and he wasn’t even able to get the valuable information the Blade of Marmora needed. Kolivan notices his behavior, and a large hand smother’s Keith’s. 

“That is not your fault, Keith. We didn’t know the Galra Empire was aware of the meeting. We are lucky that you have returned to us.”

“I almost didn’t,” Keith says. “A Galra officer helped me to my ship. I thought he was an undercover Blade!” He’s worked up now, finally remembering all the details from that dizzying time. “He directed the sentries away from me and got me to the ship.”

Kolivan’s brow raises in a startling display of surprise. 

“An officer helped you?” he repeated incredulously. “Keith, did you hit your head in the explosion? Should I call Giyander back here to look at your skull?”

“No!” Keith said, a little too quickly. “No, I’m fine, I’m telling the truth. He had on the armor of a high-ranking officer and could command the sentries.”

“Hmm,” Kolivan scratches at the fur on his cheek. “We have very few Blades undercover as officers. I will double check our records and identify the person who helped you. For now, would you like to come back to the den for the night?”

Keith grinned and nodded, anxious to be out of the medical bay. It didn’t feel the same without Ulaz. The cast on his leg supported him enough that he didn’t need help walking, and Kolivan pulled a thin linen robe from a small cabinet to wrap around him for the walk through the ship. They soon reached the combined living quarters where Keith, Kolivan, Antok, Thace, and Ulaz spent their time. There were five bedrooms surrounding a combined kitchen-living room, and the center was dominated by large couches and a thickly padded floor with pillows and blankets. Antok and Thace were on one of the couches, and Kolivan seated himself on the floor next to them, pulling Keith down with him. 

“How do you feel, kit?” Antok asked, patting his head softly. For such a large Galra, his voice was quite soft and his touch light. 

“I’m okay,” Keith answers, settling next to Kolivan on the plush carpet. “Didn’t get the info we needed, though.”

“There will be other opportunities,” Thace assures him. “And Ulaz will have much to tell us when his assignment ends.” Keith nods, feeling sleepy again, and allows himself to lean just a little bit on Kolivan’s shoulder. The Galra immediately hooks an arm around him and reaches one hand up to his head, finger-combing Keith’s unruly and tangled hair. It’s surprisingly intimate, and though Keith has spent nearly a year with the Blades, many Galra customs and habits are a mystery to him.

He jerks as Kolivan touches his hair, and though Keith thinks it was just a small flinch, Kolivan notices it. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks gruffly. “Did I nick you with a claw?”

“No, no,” Keith responds. “It’s just, ah, it’s a little weird for me. The...touching thing.”

“Galra are very touch-oriented,” Kolivan explained. “It would be considered impersonal or unusual to refuse something like this. In fact, many Galra kits are treated like this by their parents until they are old enough to care for themselves.”

“So intense snuggling is normal?” Keith clarifies. Antok’s tail waves from where he’s sprawled on the couch, Thace’s head resting on his hip as he reads from a tablet. Kolivan gives his version of a smile and nods, gently tugging Keith onto his lap so he can smooth and play with his hair. Keith feels slightly ashamed of his overreaction; if this is completely normal, Giyander wasn’t doing anything wrong or inappropriate.

But as Kolivan’s claws card through his hair and Antok’s tail moves to wrap loosely around his wrist, Keith knows that this feels right. He feels safe and comforted being touched like this, but when Giyander did it, he felt dirty and wrong. But, Keith thinks, maybe it’s because he doesn’t spend as much time with Giyander as he does with the rest?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written over the course of many days and with a few different styles/moods. It's not seamless or smooth but here ya go

Chapter 2  
Kolivan, Antok, Thace, and Ulaz are very protective of Keith. Some try to hide it (Kolivan) and some are overly open about it (Ulaz) and Keith doesn’t really mind, because they don’t let it get in the way. Antok is merciless during training and Kolivan still assigns him dangerous missions, but it is inevitable that he will get hurt and the other Galra will insist he gets the wounds treated. Whether it’s a stab wound from a mission or a stubbed toe, someone will rush him off to medical as soon as is reasonable. Once Thace tried to drag him to the med bay because he heard Keith crack his knuckles, and thought that all his fingers were broken. Their protectiveness is endearing, and Keith loves it, though he would never admit it out loud. He never had someone to fuss over him before, and now that he’s a secret agent in a giant space war with magical druids and humongous sentient lion robots, he feels he’s entitled to a bit of comfort every once in a while. 

The only problem is, Giyander still makes Keith very uncomfortable. Ulaz is often gone on undercover missions as a Galra Empire mad scientist, leaving Giyander in charge of the Blade of Marmora headquarters medical bay. He’s gifted with medicine and a more than competent doctor, but his lingering touches stray too close to Keith’s nether regions and his gaze is unsettling, especially when Keith is in any stage of undress. It’s unnerving and creepy, but apparently Giyander’s actions are normal and Keith figures he’s overreacting.

That is, until Keith is sent to the med bay for some deep bruising on his thigh and buttock from a hard fall, and Giyander is touching him...everywhere. Between his cheeks, the crease between thigh and buttock, his hip where the edge of the bruise is. It’s intimate and Keith’s blushing face is luckily hidden in the gurney’s sheets because he’s rolled onto his side, but that also means the Giyander is behind him, where he can’t see him. He can feel him though, thick fingers prodding and pushing, spreading a cream on the bruise that is supposed to help it heal faster and relieve pain. 

But then the fingers move down in between his cheeks with the cream, and Keith tries to sit up, a protest on his lips. Giyander’s large hand comes down on his shoulder and pushes him back onto the gurney, pinning him in place.

“Keith, I must make sure to get the cream on every affected area,” he says calmly. “You trust me to take care of you, right? I’m only trying to ensure that you’re alright.”

Keith hesitates, frowns, and lays back down. He’s overreacting.

 

Keith’s leg is burned, and while the injury itself is only a mild inconvenience, the pain is sharp and strong. The base is crazy with activity, the attack from the Empire happening too close to the headquarters of the Blade of Marmora for them to take any chances of discovery. All hands are on deck, the second wave of Blades hurrying towards the hangar to take off and the returning first wave either resting or seeking medical attention. 

Luckily, not many Blades were hurt, but Keith was one of the few who had direct contact with the sentries. Kolivan took one look at it and ordered Keith to get it looked at before turning back to the command display in front of him, and Keith trudged his way to the medical area of the base. Giyander was tying a bandage on the arm of another Blade when Keith entered, just finishing up.

“Ah, Keith, where are you injured?” he said, gesturing for the other Blade to leave as he put the excess bandaging away. The half-Galra was ushered to a small room in the back, and Giyander closed the door carefully before turning. “Burns can be very painful. Take off your uniform, let’s have a look.” Keith did so, feeling nervous in only his underwear but used to Giyander’s antics by now. 

“It’s not serious, it’s just painful,” he says when Giyander questions him. “If you give me painkillers for it and burn cream, I can treat it myself--”

“Nonsense,” Giyander laughed, eyes tight. “Kolivan would never let me live it down if I didn’t take the best care of you. Lay down.” Keith obeyed, and Giyander opened several cabinets and drawers looking for his supplies. As the large Galra turned away, Keith missed how Giyander’s hand snuck into his pocket and withdrew a small pill bottle, shaking out a single tab.

“Take these,” Giyander said, holding out two different colored pills in his furry palm. “They’re painkillers that will effectively block the pain of the burn. There are not many medicines here that are safe for humans to consume, so don’t take anything else unless I have approved it.”

Keith raised his eyebrow at that, but it made sense. Human biology was not adapted to the chemistry of other worlds, and he did have to check what he ate on new planets before eating it. He swallowed the pills dry as Giyander brought out a tube of burn cream and some gauze, but only a few seconds after swallowing, his head began to feel faint. He tried to open his mouth, but his tongue and lips felt numb.

“Oh, I was wondering if that would happen. A simple side effect of the special painkillers for you. You will feel warm, and it increases blood flow. Do not worry if you begin to feel sexually aroused.”

“Wha?” Keith slurred, his mind panicking but his body unresponsive as he felt a rush of heat in his groin. Giyander laughed and began to spread the burn cream on his leg, his hands roaming farther than necessary as always.

“Calm down, Keith, I am a doctor,” he said gently. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me to help you.” True to his word, the pain from the burn disappeared almost immediately, and Keith began to relax. He was hard and it was embarrassing, but Giyander hadn’t lied about the pain going away. His head felt sluggish and heavy, and it was hard to focus. “Would you like me to help you with this, Keith?”

There was a hand touching his dick, and wow, that had never happened before. Keith whined before he could stop himself, because the touch felt good; but even as his body responded, his brain fought against it. Even if the arousal was a side effect of the painkillers, Giyander shouldn’t be offering to…

To what? Help him? Make him feel good?

The hand began to stroke him, and another began to fondle at his hole, and Keith let the heavy feeling of the drugs take over him.

 

The next day, when Antok invited Keith to spar with him, the Galra noticed something was off right away.

“Kit, what’s bothering you? You are behaving as if you are distracted, and that will get you killed,” he said as he flipped Keith over his back, pinning him to the mat of the training room floor. Keith panted and tapped out, flushing.

“I’m just thinking about some things,” he mumbled, grabbing a bottle of water. He was too embarrassed to tell anyone what had happened the day before; Giyander had helped him with his injury and helped him through the side effects of the only painkillers they could safely give him. Nothing was wrong, he was just embarrassed and didn’t want to go blabbing about it. 

Antok didn’t seem satisfied but he left it at that, readying his stance again.

 

Every time Keith was seriously hurt on a mission, he ended up being treated by Giyander. The universe must hate him because Ulaz, someone he thought of as one of his four father-figures, was only on-base when Keith had a sprained wrist or a cold. Whenever blood was seriously spilt or a bone was broken, it was always Giyander. Luckily, the special human-safe painkillers were not needed very often as Keith had a high pain tolerance, but there were times when medication was necessary. Giyander always brought Keith into a private room and helped him through the side effects, ready to give Keith’s body what it seemed to need once he took the pills. It was an embarrassing system, but it was one that worked, so Keith kept his mouth shut about what was happening in the back of the med bay.

 

Besides, it wasn’t like he was being taken advantage of, right? Giyander had only ever acted professionally, had created a medicine safe for humans, had never tried to embarrass Keith about the side effects of the drugs. Even so, Keith was still somewhat anxious about every trip to the doctor, but with every visit, he grew more and more used to the treatment of his body at Giyander’s hands.

 

Finally, Keith was going on a group mission with his favorite Blades. It was a relatively minor mission, and not a lot of information stood to be gained, but a major Galra Empire commander was going to be visiting a mining planet for a week and it gave the Blades of Marmora the perfect opportunity to gather intel. Since the area to be covered was large, at least four Blades were needed, and Kolivan offered to go as well once Keith was included in the chosen group. 

Ulaz, Thace, Antok, Keith, and Kolivan all got ready together the morning of the mission. Keith would never admit it, but he loved the casual hair-ruffles and purrs the other Blades made, and their presence was a soothing one. Having all of them in the same room at once was only helping him, and he appreciated the teamwork they showed--fixing each other’s armor, braiding hair, grooming, feeding, chatting idly. It was domestic and familial, and it made Keith’s heart ache with joy at finally finding a family that truly accepted him.

“Kit, are you ready?” Antok asked, his voice quiet yet rumbly as his tail curled around Keith’s ankle. “We are about to depart.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Keith responded, suppressing the grin that threatened to show on his face. “Let’s go.”

 

Naturally, things didn’t go as simply as they’d hoped. Only a few hours later, they’re hiding in an abandoned house, waiting for the nearby sentries to sweep the rest of the neighborhood and move on so they could leave. Thace’s shoulder was grazed by a blaster shot and Kolivan’s hood had a few holes, but Keith was the worst off. He’d pushed Antok out of the way of a small vehicle that was tipping over from some sort of grenade, and his ankle had been clipped and partially caught underneath the metal. Every Blade heard the crunch, but Keith had bared his fangs and sliced through any sentry that came too close until Antok got to his feet and fought them off. 

They’d managed to fall back to the house undetected, Keith slung over Kolivan’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried easily. Now, the leader of the Blades gently set Keith down on the ground and stepped back so Ulaz could kneel next to Keith. The doctor’s medical pack was already open, and he rummaged inside as he spoke.

“We’ll need to wrap it for now until we can get you to a healing pod,” he mutters as he pulls out a few items. “Here, some medicine. Take two pills, Keith.” He holds the small bottle out, and Keith’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and he chews on his lip.

“I don’t want it,” Keith mutters. 

“But why not? You’re in pain,” Ulaz says quietly. “I need to treat you before you get worse.”

“You can, I just don’t want the medicine,” Keith insists. “I don’t want to deal with the side effects, not here.”

“Side effects?” Ulaz looks confused. “Keith, it is meant to lessen your pain.”

“I know, I’m talking about...the…” He trails off, and Ulaz looks concerned now. At his prodding, Keith whispers, “The sexual side effects.”

“What are you talking about?” Ulaz’s voice gets louder, and Keith shushes him. “There are no such side effects!” Keith blanches. Behind him, Kolivan’s ears perk up.

“But...Giyander told me...He said that he had to help me…” Keith feels nauseous. “He’d give me that medicine, and it would make me…”

“Keith, has Giyander performed sexual acts on you? Has he asked you to do anything sexual in his presence?” Ulaz sounds frightened, and Keith’s breathing speeds way up. 

“He gave me that medicine, and he said I needed it but that it would make me need somebody to help me, and it would make me feel hot and uncomfortable but he’d touch me and he wouldn’t listen to me and he’d make me cum and he’d--he would--he’s--”

And Keith is choking on his breath, his eyes clouded with tears, and Ulaz is rubbing his back as he hyperventilates and sobs. Everyone is crowding him now, and Kolivan is speaking quietly to Ulaz but Keith can hear the anger in his voice. His ankle still hurts but he curls in on himself anyways, until he feels a hand that’s too big to be anyone’s but Antok’s settle on his nape and another on his chest.

“Breathe, little one,” Antok whispers, and now Keith is draped in his lap as he cries, the full realization of what’s happened hitting him. All this time, Giyander has been lying to him, manipulating him, abusing him. And Keith let it all happen, over and over again. “Let it out, kit, let it out. I have you.”

It takes Keith nearly five minutes of full-on sobbing to begin to calm down. It felt good to cry, to relieve the pressure that’s been building in his chest for months. It felt like a small part of him had always known that what Giyander was doing was wrong, but he’d overridden it with excuses and the empty reassurances the doctor had doled out. Hearing Ulaz validate his subconscious worries eased something inside him, and he sagged in Antok’s hold, exhausted. He finally drags his gaze upwards to look at the others, and he’s shameful, expecting looks of disgust. 

Instead, Ulaz looks terrified. Thace’s ears are flicked back in sorrow, and Antok is gazing down at him with a bit of pity and a lot of concern. Kolivan, though, looks positively murderous as he speaks quietly into his comm, eyes fixed on a point somewhere above Keith’s head. His brow is lowered, fangs and claws fully extended, ears up and back in fury. His expression, while not focused on Keith, is enough to make the half-human try to shrink and burrow further into Antok’s large lap. 

“Keith,” Ulaz whispers. “I’m so sorry. We will make this right.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sloppily thrown together and it's kinda just a filler chapter cuz i wanna get to the good stuff

“Prince Lotor will be joining the Paladins when they visit,” Kolivan declared, and Keith growled. He’d never met the Galra prince in person, but after their past encounters with the prince toying with them, he wasn’t happy about the upcoming meeting. However, he was excited to see his friends again; the past several months had taken their toll on him, in more ways than one. 

“Kit,” Thace called as the debrief wrapped up, all the Blades filing out of the room. Keith waited until most of the others had left, leaving Thace and Kolivan with him. Once the doors shut, Kolivan laid a large hand on Keith’s shoulder. 

“Giyander has been dealt with,” he growled. “He’s been placed in the same detention facility we house Galra Empire officers and similar political adversaries in. He will never get out.” His grip on Keith’s shoulder tightened, then released so Thace could draw the smaller Blade into a quick hug. 

“We’re sorry we didn’t notice,” he began, but Keith cut him off. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard already.

“It’s okay. Just--just make sure he never comes back.” Thace and Kolivan nodded, and Keith forced a smile. “So when does Voltron get here?”

 

Shiro was the first one to step out of the shuttle, and he gave Keith a wide grin as soon as he saw him, but he didn’t say anything yet; Allura and Kolivan needed to greet each other first, as protocol dictated. Keith waited a step behind and to the side of Kolivan, with Antok on the other side. Pidge, Lance, Hunk, and Allura all stepped out of the shuttle into the hangar, but as soon as the last figure moved into the light, Keith’s breath caught in his chest. 

Tall, slim, with light purple skin and long white hair, clad in sensible armored garments and a sword hanging at his hip. Prince Lotor strode down the shuttle’s ramp as if he owned the whole base, his head held regally high and his eyes sharp. He looked first at Kolivan, the Blade closest to him, then at Antok, the largest. Then his gaze landed on Keith, and those deep blue eyes widened. 

Behind his mask, Keith’s eyes are doing the same, and his quick intake of air is enough to make Kolivan’s ear flick back to him. But then the moment has passed, and Lotor is greeting Kolivan with all the pomp and decorum a prince’s entrance would have, and Kolivan is answering and Keith is just wondering what the hell is going on. The Galra officer who had saved him not just once, but twice, was the goddamned Emperor’s son?

Antok’s tail rubs gently against his ankle and Keith jolts, coming back to the moment. Allura has joined Lotor and Kolivan’s conversation, but Shiro is watching Keith closely from his spot behind Allura. He’s got a little frown on his face, and how the man knew that Keith was affected from behind his mask, Keith wasn’t sure. But as soon as Kolivan gestured to let Allura and Lotor start walking out of the hangar, the walls of proper decorum came down and Pidge was launching herself at Keith, jabbering happily. 

Keith has never been one for lots of touching and open affection, but the past several months of living with basically-fathers who are of a species with an affinity for touch has desensitized him somewhat. He catches Pidge easily and returns her hug, albeit quickly, before setting her down and accepting Shiro’s warm hug. Lance is clapping his shoulder and Hunk is smiling, and Keith doesn’t realize his own grin is showing until Shiro’s fingers play along his jawline and release his mask. 

Everyone is talking animatedly and Keith’s attention is fully on his friends, so nobody notices how Lotor glances back, finally seeing the face of the Blade he’d helped in the past for the first time. 

Except Kolivan notices everything. 

 

It isn’t until four hours later, after a somewhat informal dinner and a lot of catching up, that Keith and Lotor are alone together. Shiro had been chatting with Keith about his training regime until Allura decided to turn in for the night, and he followed her out. Hunk had already disappeared to chat with the Blade chefs about food, Pidge had met a Blade that offered to teach her about some tech they used, and Lance had been told his assigned quarters had a bathtub so he wouldn’t be seen anytime soon. Kolivan had been dragged away earlier to deal with Blade stuff, and that left Keith and Lotor alone in the dining room. 

Keith didn’t really know what to do. He’d wanted to speak with Lotor, to thank him for his actions, but now that he knew the officer who’d saved him wasn’t an undercover Blade, his suspicions were raised. 

On the other hand, Lotor was excited. Not that he’d ever let that show on his face, no, he was far too reserved for that. But he had been curious the first time he’d seen the Blade, so much smaller than even the youngest Galra, creeping around his battlecruiser. What face lay behind that mask? And then when Lotor found the same Blade bleeding out in the woods of some backwater planet, he’d sent the search party away and carried the much-too-light spy to his ship. He’d dumped him into the shuttle with words of farewell, hoping that if their paths ever crossed again, Lotor wouldn’t know--because that’s what makes a good spy. 

Yet there he’d stood in the hangar, obvious due to his short stature and lean muscles, standing at the leader of the Blade of Marmora’s shoulder. Clearly in a high position, yet surely not Galra?

And then the Black Paladin had embraced the Blade, brushing his fingers across his jaw to release the mask as the rest of the Paladins crowded around. Light skin, violet eyes, not fur except on top of his head; beautiful, but definitely not Galra. It was all Lotor had had time to take in because Kolivan’s gaze was sharp, demanding attention and Lotor was quick to look ahead again, following Allura’s long shimmering hair.

Now, the Blade--Paladin?--was seated across from him, uniform on but mask still lowered. He was looking at Lotor as if he was trying to figure out what to say, and Lotor beat him to the punch.

“You made it to safety, I’d assume?” he said, letting a coy smile life his lips. The Blade stiffened, and Lotor realized he still didn’t know his name. 

“Yeah,” he answered, then paused. “Thanks to you, I guess.” He looked uncomfortable, but not scared or worried. “I’m Keith, by the way.”

“Well, Keith, I’m happy you made your way back. There are few enough Blades as is, and we can’t afford to lose a fighter of your caliber.” And of all things, that makes the little Blade blush. Instead of the darker pink and flicking ears that Lotor is used to, Keith’s skin turns a faint shade of pink.

“Uh...thanks?” he says awkwardly, and Lotor smiles a real smile this time. “That sword. Is it for show or for actual fighting?”

“Fighting, of course,” Lotor replies, taken aback. “Why would I wear a weapon if it didn’t serve a practical purpose?”

“On Earth, it’s common for some leaders to have weapons that are purely for decoration or symbolism,” Keith explains. “But I guess that’s not the case for the Galra. Would you…”

At this, Keith trails off, uncertain. He’s still suspicious of Lotor’s intentions, but the man had been nothing but helpful so far. In addition, you could tell a lot about a person by the way they fight, and if Lotor’s chosen weapon is anything to go by, the prince enjoys a challenge in a fight where he can’t hide behind the range of a gun. Keith would enjoy a new sparring partner, but he’s not sure how Lotor would take his offer.

“Would I, what?” Lotor presses, and Keith steels his surprisingly unruly nerves. 

“Would you like to spar with me?” he says too quickly, but Lotor just grins, a flash of fang showing. 

“I would greatly appreciate such an opportunity,” he answers. “But not tonight; it’s late, and I prefer to have someone nearby to tend to injuries if we are to use weapons.”

“Tomorrow then,” Keith states, feeling bold, and Lotor nods as he stands and prepares to retire.

“Good night, Keith.”

 

It’s just before lunchtime the next day, and Keith has been in the training room for two hours already, sparring with Shiro and helping train Pidge, Lance, and Hunk. The three younger Paladins had expressed their desire to learn more martial arts, and of course Keith had been chosen to help them instead of his normal duties around the base.

It’s not so bad, Keith thinks, as he adjusts Pidge’s stance and watches her throw Lance to the floor. Hunk does the same to Shiro, who had volunteered to help, and Keith feels just a hint of pride. The Paladins of Voltron were becoming stronger every day, with the rebels following their example, and he’s part of that.

After another ten minutes of teaching, the Paladins step off the mats to let a few other Blades have some time. The training room is large and one of the most popular sections of the Blade of Marmora base, and Blades cross in and out constantly. Haskaldir, a lean but incredibly strong Blade not too much older than Keith has been helping him learn more advanced knife moves and he waves as he enters the training room. 

A few minutes later, they’re sparring with wooden knives as a warm up. The Paladins and a couple Blades are watching idly as Keith and Haskaldir dance across the map, their mock weapons clashing repeatedly and quickly. Both fighters are considered skinny, but they’re both very fast, and Haskaldir is a very good teacher. It isn’t long until the Galra is on his back with Keith above him, wooden blade to his neck and a knee on his chest. The bout ends and they both straighten, then start again.

It goes on for twenty minutes, with Haskaldir stopping once in a while to give Keith advice or congratulate him. Once Keith has knocked Haskaldir’s knife from his hand, the session is called and they move to get water. 

That’s when the clappings starts, and Keith whips around to see Lotor standing next to Shiro, who’s grinning madly. The Galra prince steps forward, and Keith realizes he’s wearing a loose shirt and athletic pants, not his usual armored uniform. His sword is still buckled at his side, and that’s a clear beckoning as any.

“Are you still alright with live weapons?” Lotor asks as he approaches, and Keith nods. Shiro tosses him his Blade, and with a slight flick, the knife has grown into a long, curved sword. 

“Ready when you are,” Keith challenges, and Lotor lunges. 

 

From where he’s standing on the sidelines, Shiro crosses his arms. There was a time not long ago when he could have confidently said that Keith would never surpass him in combat; Keith was fast and wicked, efficient with his moves and smart, but Shiro had always been faster, smarter, stronger. His time as the Champion in the arena had only reinforced that, but as he watched his little brother dart around the mat, he was forced to rethink that. The past months with the Blade of Marmora had taught him much. Keith used his smaller stature to devastating advantage, and he didn’t limit himself to using his blade. He kicked, punched, and even headbutted his opponents when he needed to, using movements Shiro had never even thought of. It was incredible, and Shiro was very proud.

The shriek of metal on metal echoed throughout the room, and Lotor’s blade pinned Keith’s to the floor, the Galra’s foot swinging up to knock Keith back. Keith rolled with it, pulling his blade back up to parry the downward stroke and grabbing Lotor’s wrist, twisting so that the two ended up on the ground, Keith straddling Lotor, their blades pressed against each other’s neck.

Time seemed to slow as Keith sat on Lotor’s chest, their eyes locked. The press of cold, sharp metal was insistent along the side of his neck, but Lotor was feeling the same, and they were at a stalemate. Keith blinked, and time sped back up as he realized their position.

“I yield,” they said in unison, and then Lotor laughed. Not just chuckled like he did pompously, but actually laughed, hard enough that his neck moved enough for Keith’s blade to scrape the skin. Dark purple blood welled up, and Keith’s eyes widened as he hastily rolled off. 

“We should get that looked at,” he said as he offered his hand to Lotor. The prince took it and was hefted up to his feet, one hand coming up to touch his neck as the other sheathed his sword. 

“It’s merely a scratch,” Lotor said, wiping at the blood with his hands. “I’ve had far worse. But I must say, that was quite a match. You’re very skilled with your blade, Keith.”

“So are you,” Keith replied, his blade shrinking to its resting size and slipping it back into its sheath. “Thank you for sparring with me, I learned a lot. I usually fight opponents who are much bigger than me, and I need more than just Haskaldir to practice on fighting with someone closer to my size.” He goes to grab his water bottle, only to realize that he’s still holding Lotor’s hand. His face burns and he relaxes his fingers, and Lotor releases them just a second later. Neither men look at each other until Shiro comes over, clapping a hand on Keith’s shoulder. 

“That was incredible, guys,” he says happily. “Keith, you’ve gotten so fast I’m going to have a hard time keeping up with you soon.”

“You can try, old man,” Keith teases, the hand on his shoulder a familiar comfort. “If you have any tips, give them to me. I wanna beat Haskaldir seven out of ten times tomorrow.” 

Lotor and Shiro both chuckle as they make their way out of the training room, and Keith thinks that maybe having the Paladins and the prince around for a couple weeks will be just fine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its 3 am and i wrote this instead of getting much needed sleep

Keith hasn’t slept for three days, and it’s catching up to him.

A third of the base’s normal forces are occupied either with far away missions or helping a nearby colony recover from a Galra Empire attack. The three main generators that powered the base all went down and the backups had only worked for a day, and the parts needed to repair them were still on a ship a day away. Voltron had been pummeled on the other side of the galaxy and the castle was down, barely able to sustain life until they got the parts to repair it. Supplies were stretched thin between the attacked colony, the castle, and the base, and every able Blade was working overtime to handle it. 

Of course, that’s when they got news that a Galra fleet had been seen heading towards a nearby solar system where the Blade of Marmora’s prison system was housed. Political prisoners, traitors, and the dangerous criminals from liberated planets were kept there, and Kolivan suspected the Galra were trying to rescue some of their captured officers. Keith, Kolivan, Antok, three other Blades, and surprisingly Lotor were on their way to the solar system to try and stop the Galra attack. Lotor had been onbase helping with some undercover missions when the news came in, and he’d readily volunteered his assistance.

“We have too few Blades as it is,” Kolivan grumbled as Keith adjusted his uniform. “I wish you were not on this mission, Kit, as you need more sleep than Galra, but your skills are most utilized here.”

“I’ll be okay,” Keith promised as Kolivan batted his hands away to secure his knife to his belt. “He’s locked up, we just have to make sure the Galra don’t get to the prison before we do.”

“Ah, about that,” the pilot calls over her shoulder as they approach the planet. “The Galra cruiser has already put forces on the ground, and the prison’s been taken over. The last message from the Blades in it said they were completely overrun.”

Keith growls, and it’s definitely a Galra sound as Kolivan echoes it. They’re all exhausted from days of running around and Keith still hasn’t slept in 72 hours. He’s tired, hungry, and pissed that the Galra had to choose now of all times to try and get their officers back, but most of all he’s angry that the Blades running the prison were likely dead. If the prison was overrun, they’d have little chance of surviving before backup came--and their shuttle wasn’t carrying the best backup.

 

It took them ten minutes to navigate their way undetected onto the planet and land near the prison, a large squat compound that was partially underground. The Galra cruiser could be seen high in the sky, orbiting as transport shuttles and fighter ships flew back and forth. 

“We’re too late,” Kolivan declared as they crept into the prison itself, accessing an information panel in one of the deserted guard rooms. “All seven Blades that operate this prison are already dead. Two of the three transport ships have already left, and the third is about to take off. There’s only non-Galra Empire prisoners left here.” He steps away from the panel, lips curled in a scowl. “And those damned robotic sentries. Seems the Galra Empire wanted to leave us with a parting gift.” 

“We need to take out those sentries first, then,” Keith mutters. “Get rid of them and make sure no Galra officers are still here, and secure any other prisoners that have been released.”

“Good, Keith. We will split up and each take a section of the prison; take out any sentries or Galra Empire soldiers, and check in on the comms when you’ve secured your section.” Everyone nods, and they scatter noiselessly to the sections Kolivan had pointed out.

Keith’s section wasn’t very large, but unfortunately that meant there wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver. He’d run into a group of sentries immediately, receiving a glancing shot to his shoulder before he took them all down. He knew his exhaustion was catching up to him, making his movements sluggish and his reaction times slower as he carved his way through his section of the prison. One sentry actually got close enough to punch him, smacking his head into the wall and dazing him before he sliced it’s head off. His mask did little to pad his head, and he staggered to his feet feeling nauseous before forcing himself down the hallway again. 

“My section is clear. I’ll help wi--what the hell?!”

The pilot’s voice came through over the comms, and Keith paused. 

“I think the Empire’s hacked into the prison mainframe, some of the cell doors just opened remotely. Luckily nobody was in them, but you all should watch out. We’ve got some crazy people held here.”

Keith swore to himself as he crept forward as quietly as he could. He couldn’t hear any more sentries nearby, but if the cells were being opened, there could be a much bigger threat just around the corner. He held his knife at the ready as he rounded a corner, entering a hallway lined with cells. 

Open cells.

Something crashed into Keith from the side, knocking him off his feet and sending him sailing through the air several feet before he hit a cell door and fell to the ground. He slashed up blindly and sliced through something, because the Galra that attacked him howled and jumped back, giving Keith enough time to climb to his feet. Before he could attack again, however, the Galra was on him, blood streaming from a cut to his arm but no weaker for it. His large hand came down on Keith’s head, but Keith ducked under it just enough to dart forward and drive his knife into the Galra’s belly, activating it as he did so. The blade extended out through the prisoner’s back, but he had the strength to rake his claws down Keith’s side as he fell. 

Keith shouted in pain, only realizing his comms had been turned on when he heard several voices yell back in concern. The Galra was dead, but there were four relatively deep gashes running from Keith’s right shoulder and pec to his sternum. 

“I’m okay,” he gasped into his comm as he sagged against the cell door. “A prisoner got a hit on me but he’s dead. I’m okay.” Distantly, he knew he was not okay and Kolivan was going to yell at him when he saw the slashes, but there was nothing he could do about it right now. “I’m almost done with my section.” 

There’s a low hum on the comms that Keith knows is Antok’s ‘I’m concerned but don’t want to say it out loud’ noise, and manages a shaky grin. He’s a little peeved that he got hit by both sentries and the prisoner, but in his defense he’s sleep deprived and distracted. He just needs to finish this hallway, and then he can meet back up with the others and they can get the hell off this planet. 

He’s about to pull his Blade from the prisoner’s body when something hard and metal strikes the back of his head, and he goes down instantly. Grey eats at his vision as he grunts, instinctively rolling so that he can see who hit him, and he feels his blood turn to ice.

Giyander is standing above him, dressed in a prisoner uniform and holding a metal pipe, and he’s got a very familiar look in his eyes. 

“My, my,” he laughs and swings the pipe. Keith screams as he feels his shin break, splintering beneath the metal. He tries to reach for his knife sticking out of the body next to him, and Giyander may have been a doctor but he’d also been a Blade and he’s fast. His boot slams Keith’s arm into the floor and he leans down, putting most of his weight on that leg as Keith shouts.

“I never thought I’d see you again, little Keith,” Giyander sneers. “You know, it’s all your fault that I’m locked up in this place. I don’t like the Empire but they unlocked my cell door, so I guess I owe Zarkon one. He’s allowed me to get my hands on you one last time.”

“No!” Keith yells, but he’s dizzy and bleeding and scared. His weak struggling doesn’t even slow Giyander down as he drops to his knees, straddling Keith’s much smaller body and one thick hand on Keith’s chest, keeping him from moving. “Stop! Kolivan! Anto--”

He’s cut off with a gurgle as Giyander rips off his mask and the neck of his uniform, jabbing him in the throat to silence him. 

“No calling for backup here,” he leers, and his sharp claws slice cleanly through Keith’s belt and tug his pants down. He rubs his hardening crotch against Keith’s lewdly, and Keith sobs as those thick fingers touch his skin again. He tries again to fight, kicking out with his good leg, but Giyander just digs the claws of one hand into Keith’s hip and works at his own pants with the other. 

Once his pants are shoved down, Giyander’s hand reaches towards Keith’s ass, fingers ramming violently at his opening. Keith screams in pain and in fear, and then suddenly there’s hot blood spraying across his face and the fingers disappear. The weight on top of him is yanked off, and Keith watches as Lotor’s blade slashes down again to sever Giyander’s head completely. 

The hallway is silent except for his raspy, heavy breathing, and the drip of blood from the tip of Lotor’s sword. Then Keith is sobbing, trying to wipe the blood off his face but only smearing it more and Lotor crouches down next to him, gently catching his wrists. 

“Keith? Keith, stop. Let me.” 

There’s a cloth rubbing his face, taking away most of the blood as tears make their way down his cheeks. Then the cloth is replaced by slim fingers, and Lotor cups his face, tilting it up. 

“Breath, Keith. He’s dead. He can’t touch you anymore. Breath. I need to know, where are you hurt?”

There’s an urgency to his voice that Keith has never heard, but the blood loss and shock is making everything a little hard to hear. He coughs and tries to mimic Lotor’s own breathing before he answers. 

“Leg. Shoulder, and my chest. My head.” It’s ringing from the multiple bashes, and Keith tries to sit up only to have his chest erupt in pain. He gasps and falls back, but Lotor’s hand is on the back of his head, cushioning it from the ground. 

“Kolivan, Keith is badly injured. We’re in hallway 14, and we need to get him medical treatment immediately.” Lotor speaks into his comms for another minute, but Keith’s world is going dark as the reality of the situation sets in. 

Giyander touched him again. Nearly raped him again. 

Keith squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hold back the next sob, but Lotor’s hand is still on his face and it softly strokes his jaw.

“Come on, Keith, stay awake,” he says in that princely tone that makes you want to obey. “Just for a bit longer.” Then the hand that was on the back of his head is exploring, carefully running over the bumps and cuts under his hair. There’s the sound of more footsteps, and Kolivan’s snarl of rage is undeniable. 

“What happened here?” he demands, dropping to crouch next to Lotor and Keith, who’s just barely holding onto consciousness. 

“I finished checking my section and heard his yell over the comms, so I came to help him,” Lotor explains. “I found that monster on top of him, attempting something unspeakable. I killed him.”

“Good,” is the only answer Lotor gets before Keith is being lifted into Kolivan’s arms and they’re running down the hallway, back towards their ship. “We’ve leaving.”

 

 

Keith doesn’t wake up until a day later, and it’s to the bright lights of the Blade’s medical bay. His head is stuffy and his shoulder and leg ache something fierce, but the pain is manageable. He remembers exactly what happened in that hallway, and he’s surprised that his first thought is of Lotor. 

Turns out, the prince in asleep in the chair next to the bed, the one that Shiro’s always been in whenever Keith woke up in the med bay. It’s obvious that he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, the tablet in his slack hands dangerously close to falling to the floor and he’s still wearing his armored uniform. His head is tipped back at a not-very-attractive angle, his lips are parted in deep sleep, and his hair is tossed up into a messy man-bun, but Keith thinks this might just be the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. 

Not a moment later, the tablet loses the fight against gravity and falls to the floor with a thump. Lotor jerks awake and glances around, and it takes a second for him to realize that Keith is awake.

“How do you feel?” he asks immediately, ignoring the fallen tablet in favor of standing next to the bed. “You’ve been unconscious for almost twenty hours.”

“Pain’s not bad,” Keith rasps out. “Everyone made it out okay?” 

“Except for you,” Lotor assures him, but now there’s an edge to his voice. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. That foul creature deserved a far slower death than what he got.” His hands twist in the sheets as if wringing an imaginary opponent’s neck, and Keith realizes he’s not the only one in the room who was suffering. “Kolivan told me who he was. That should never have happened to you, Keith. Never.”

“You saved me,” Keith said in response. His voice is hoarse from screaming but he puts as much emotion as he can into his words. “You killed him. He can’t ever get me again. So thank you.” 

Lotor’s hand is on the mattress right next to his, so Keith curls his fingers around Lotor’s. The purple digits freeze, and for a second Keith feels even worse, thinking he misread this situation on top of everything else. 

Then Lotor firmly squeezes his hand and sits back down in the chair, and Keith knows that everything will be all right.


End file.
